


Date Night

by cloudyjenn



Series: Importance of Souls [3]
Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Supernatural
Genre: Daemonverse, Fluff, M/M, drunk!Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 03:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudyjenn/pseuds/cloudyjenn
Summary: Sam's date inspires Dean to take Castiel out for a night of drinking and fun.





	

**Author's Note:**

> More of the daemonverse repost. Enjoy!

Dean was comfortable.

Like bone-meltingly, soul-deep, life-fulfilling comfortable. The bed beneath him was old and soft in direct and sweet opposition to the stiff unyielding hotel beds he'd used for the last several weeks or the lumpy cold ground he'd slept on for the months before. Clad only in a pair of blessedly worn pajama pants, he lay on his stomach, one leg hitched up and his head pillowed on Castiel's thigh.

Castiel sat up, pressed against the backboard. One hand stroked continuously through Dean's hair while the other held the book he read, some volume on vampires that Bobby'd lent him. On Cas' other leg sat Grace, who'd settled into a classic roosting pose, though she wasn't sleeping. Celeste lay in a heap between Dean's legs, her own head resting on Dean's knee.

Dean didn't want to move ever again. He didn't know if he really deserved a reward for helping save the world, but if he did, this was it. The strong steady motion of Castiel's fingers shifting through his hair lulled Dean towards sleep. Relaxed didn't even before to cover it. He was surprised he hadn't melted through the bed.

Just as he was on the edge of sleep, seconds away from tipping into unconsciousness, Sam burst through the door and began screaming.

Well, maybe not screaming, but he might as well have been for all the shock it gave Dean.

"Dude, do you have any cologne?" he asked and he immediately started searching in the bag that Dean'd only half unpacked. Dean's hand clenched into the pillow beside Castiel. He burrowed his face into Castiel's hip and without looking, launched the pillow at Sam's head.

"Get out of here," he growled. Castiel's hand settled on his neck, rubbing comforting circles into the now tense muscles.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" Sam sounded distracted, as if Dean's ire wasn't worth much of his attention.

It just figured. It'd been years since Dean could properly intimidate Sam.

He heard a fluttering sound and lifted his head, peering over Castiel's legs. He wasn't at all surprised to see that Grace had landed in an open drawer and was now nosing around for the cologne Sam sought. Dean scowled at Castiel.

"Traitor," he muttered and pressed his forehead back into Castiel's leg.

"I thought the sooner we helped him find it, the sooner he'd leave," Castiel explained, but Dean smelled a rat. Castiel had become entirely too good at knowing exactly what Dean wanted to hear, but Dean had also become a master at knowing what Castiel really meant. And what he really meant was that he wanted to help Sam.

"Yeah, right." Heaving a put upon sigh, Dean reluctantly lifted himself into a sitting position. "Why'd you need cologne?"

"I have a date," Sam explained, a little breathless with what Dean assumed was excitement. Astrid jumped up on her front paws and peeked into the drawer below the one where Grace was covered in underwear. "With that girl, Alice? From the store?"

"Okay, yeah. Alice from the store," Dean agreed, giving Castiel a bewildered look. This was the first he'd heard of any girl or any store.

And since when did Sam work that quickly? They'd only arrived at Bobby's place a few nights ago. Dean couldn't even remember if Sam had left the house.

Although to be fair, Dean had been perfecting the art of napping ever since they'd landed back at Bobby's. Sara, Bobby's squirrel daemon, had accused Celeste of being a cat in disguise.

"Sam met her when we bought food at the grocery store yesterday," Castiel said.

"Oh oh, I see," Dean groused. "This is another one of your Sam-n-Cas super secrets," he said, making his voice more wounded than he really felt because honestly, he kind of liked that Sam and Castiel got along so well and he really liked that someone else was here to go to the grocery with Sam because Dean hated doing it himself.

"I'd have told you, but you were sawing logs on the couch," Sam said. "Aha!" With a triumphant grin, Sam pulled the bottle of Dean's rarely used cologne out of one of the bag's many side pockets.

"You actually have a date?" It began to sink in. Sam hadn't dated since…Dean thought hard. Madison? And he hadn't gotten laid since…Ruby. Dean made a face. It was way past time for Sam to go out and wash that particular taste out of his mouth.

"Yeah, sorry, not all of us can be old married people," Sam said and Astrid snorted. Celeste narrowed her eyes at Astrid.

"We are not old or married. Well, Castiel's kind of old, but our relationship is not. We've only been together for just over a month," Celeste countered smugly, nose in the air.

Grace then preceded to totally ruin the effect by flying over to land on Celeste's head, presumably to present a unified front. Dean stared at their daemons, glaring down at Astrid on the floor and sighed. Sam didn't bother to hide his glee.

"Are you kidding me? Take a look around you, Dean," he said, gesturing around the room Bobby'd put them in. "You share a bed. You share a dresser. When I came in here, you were cuddling," he said, emphasizing the word 'cuddle' because he knew exactly how much Dean hated it. "Your daemons are like the same person. You're married."

"You're just jealous," Dean decided. "Besides, we know how to have fun, right, Cas?" He glanced to Castiel, but didn't give him time to respond. "We're going out tonight, in fact."

Pleasured surprise bloomed on Castiel's face, which of course sent the totally obvious message that Dean had just made up this date and meant that Dean had to choose to ignore Sam snickering in the doorway.

"We are?"

"Yes," Dean said roughly. "We're going out to a bar and we're going to play pool and we're going to get drunk," he declared.

Come to that, Dean didn't think Castiel had ever tried alcohol. How he'd let Castiel's human life go for so long without introducing him to beer, Dean didn't know.

But that had to change. And while Dean would never admit this, he had been kind of lax lately in showing Castiel the good life. Relaxing was all well and good, but Dean had to make sure to keep the man happy.

"Oh, well in that case, have fun on your totally married date," Sam said and turned to leave. Dean threw the other pillow at the door and shouted after him.

"At least I'll get laid after my date!"

Silence fell over the room after Sam's exit. After a long quiet moment, Castiel glanced at Dean and smiled shyly.

"Are we really going on a date?"

*****

Their date really was more like a boy's night out. Unlike Sam, who planned on taking Alice to some kind of fancy ass restaurant and then to a play, Dean planned on taking Castiel straight to the bar.

Maybe not the most romantic date in the world, but way more fun than wearing an ugly suit to a restaurant that served stuff 'under glass' and trying not to knock over any lit candles. Besides, judging from the fact that Cas was practically trembling with anticipation, Dean figured he was ok with the plan.

"I got to take you out more," he commented as they made their way through Bobby's living room.

Castiel's fingers found Dean's and he hooked his index finger around Dean's thumb.

"I hadn't realized how much I wanted to spend time with you in this manner until you brought it up," he said. "I watched you spend so much time in bars. I'm very curious to discover why."

Dean couldn't decide whether he should feel guilty for neglecting this aspect of Castiel's human education or creeped out that the angel Castiel used to watch him hanging out in bars, hitting on women and getting shit-faced. He settled for grunting and tugging Castiel through the kitchen.

Bobby stood at the sink, hands plunged into soapy water. "You boys taking off?" he asked without bothering to turn around. Sara scampered up the side of his body to perch on his shoulders. She crossed her short arms over each other and gave them her typical fierce glower, the kind that still made Dean shiver slightly, despite himself. Her huge plumed tail curled over her shoulder, making her seem bigger than she really was.

"You best be careful and call us if you get too drunk," she commanded sternly.

"Yes, ma'am," Dean murmured while Castiel nodded solemnly.

"We'll take care," he promised.

"Ease up now, Sara," Bobby chided her, shaking his shoulder a little to bother her. "They can take care of themselves."

Sara frowned, but didn't say anything. Bobby's protectiveness showed itself in Sara's tendency to mother hen. Dean remembered the epic fights she used to get into with Amanda over that very tendency and he smiled. It was a good thing someone was there to remind Amanda of her duty to Celeste and Astrid, even if it did make Amanda feel like crap.

"Have fun," Bobby said. "Go on, get out of here."

They took his advice and soon were on their way to the nearest roadhouse. It was a joint Dean and Sam had occasionally visited during some of their stops at Bobby's house. Not the kind of place where they could hustle pool because the regulars would remember them and remember Bobby, but a good enough place to get a drink and talk about their latest case. Mostly rednecks and country music, but Dean didn't care because while he might not love country music, rednecks were his kind of people.

The place wasn't too full, which suited Dean just fine. Less people to annoy him. Everything about the small smoky room appeared to enchant Castiel, who gazed around in wonder.

Dean wasn't sure what captivated him so much. Surely not the clunky old jukebox in the corner or the pair of real honest-to-God moose antlers mounted on the wall. Of course, it could be like an angelic anthropological study or something. Disbelief at how the other half lived. Whatever it was, Castiel's eyes were gleaming with good humor, so Dean decided not to care why.

"Will you teach me to play pool?" Cas asked, running his fingers along the worn green velvet surface of an ancient pool table.

"Sure." Dean nodded to the bar. "First though, I'll get us a beer."

The bartender might have been the type of girl Dean would have flirted with in years past, though she was, in truth, too young for him now. Dean had thought he'd miss putting the charm on for pretty young things, but instead, it was sort of a relief not to worry about it.

Castiel and Grace wandered away as he ordered the beers, over to examine the jukebox. An older woman with bleached blond hair and an enormous rack approached Cas and while Dean watched in breath-stealing amusement, offered him some quarters to pay for a song.

Castiel missed the obvious flirtation, but allowed her to put the quarters in and spent a very long time examining the songs. Dean waited by the bar, too curious to join him just yet. As far as Dean knew, Castiel had only ever listened to the music on Dean's many mixed tapes. He doubted those songs would be on this particular jukebox. Castiel finally pushed a button and Dean smiled as Johnny Cash began to sing about laying in a field of stone.

"So what'd you think?" Dean asked, startling Castiel. He pressed the cold bottle into Cas' hand and gave the woman a friendly nod. Her eyes followed Grace's fluttering descent onto Celeste's shoulders and she returned Dean's smile with a knowing look. Picking up her cat daemon, she left them alone together.

"I like this man's voice," Castiel said decidedly. "It's rough, but full of emotion." He examined the beer bottle. "A gift from God."

"So's this beer, so drink up," Dean said.

Castiel drank. Not the sip Dean expected, but a full head tilting swig. He felt Grace sway on Celeste's shoulders, obviously overwhelmed by the bitter liquid now pouring down Castiel's throat.

"Whoa there, buddy," Dean said, grasping at Castiel's elbow. "Take it easy."

Castiel pulled the bottle away from his mouth and swallowed hard. He made a face Dean couldn't read. Not quite disgust, not quite pleasure.

"Well?"

"It's very strange," Castiel said.

"Strange good or strange bad?"

His eyebrows met in a frown. "Strange strange," he said. "But I'm willing to finish it."

"Well, I guess that's all I can ask," Dean said. "Come on. Let's play pool."

Teaching Castiel to play pool was way more fun than Dean expected. In part because Castiel couldn't grasp how he was supposed to hold the cue, so Dean had to hold it for him, pressing himself against Castiel's back as he demonstrated how to make a shot. The combination of the beer buzzing in his system and his close proximity to Castiel made Dean feel a bit high and he reveled in it.

Some of the other customers gave them funny looks, but Dean just glared at them. The glare that didn't work on Sammy anymore, but apparently creeped out random hilljacks enough that they turned around and left the two of them alone.

While they played pool, Castiel drank beer. The taste stopped being strange, he confessed to Dean and became 'rather pleasant.'

Really pleasant apparently because Castiel zipped through three beers in the time it took Dean to finish his first. Dean kept track of Castiel's consumption, but otherwise let him get on with it.

Especially since Castiel began to mess up on purpose, just so Dean would have to show him how to hold the cue again.

Dean took the opportunity to brush his lips over the skin behind Castiel's ear which made Cas shiver so hard that he knocked the cue ball away before he meant to and almost knocked it into Grace, who'd decided the only place to be was in the middle of the table.

"Whoops," he said and then giggled. Actually giggled like a thirteen year old girl. And that was when Dean realized that Castiel would be a fun-loving drunk.

It was also when he decided to cut himself off at one beer and just watch Castiel lose it completely. After all, Castiel hadn't had the chance to have a reckless youth. Now was his opportunity.

They left the pool table when Castiel couldn't hold the cue straight anymore and kept hitting Dean in the stomach with it.

"Come on. Let's just sit down here," Dean said, steering him into a table set away in a dark corner. Celeste picked Grace up and laid her gently over her shoulders. Grace laughed and rolled down Celeste's back, off onto the floor.

"Ouch," she said merrily. Castiel slumped into his chair and grabbed Dean's hand.

"Thank you for making me bring me here, Dean," Castiel slurred. "I want you to always want me to do what you want to do."

"Um…okay," Dean agreed, checking to make sure Celeste had scooped Grace off the floor. The daemons joined them a moment later and Celeste set Grace carefully on the table, where she lay, gasping with laughter. It made for a strange picture. Quiet himself, Castiel only stared blankly at the bottle of hot sauce while his daemon tittered hysterically on the table.

"Dean," Castiel said, troubled now.

"What?"

"This says 'Bottled Hell'," he said, pointing anxiously at the hot sauce. "Why…does that mean…?"

Dean bit the inside of his mouth. "It's just means it's really hot," he explained gently. He brushed the back of his hand against Castiel's face and felt heat wafting off his skin.

"Maybe we should take you home," he said. He hadn't intended to end the evening so early, but then he hadn't expected Castiel to be such a lightweight.

"Aren't you having fun?" Castiel asked, worried, his attention snatched away from the evil hot sauce. His blue eyes were bright and glazed, but distinctly concerned.

"Oh yeah," Dean reassured him and let himself finally grin. "I just think we should get you to bed before you fall over."

"Hmmm, bed," Castiel agreed, laying his head on his arms. "My mouth tastes like beer," he informed Dean from his arm, voice muffled.

"Well, you've been sucking it down like a pro," Dean said. "Come on." He glanced at Celeste, who nodded and nuzzled at Castiel's knee.

"Up you get, Cas," she said. He lifted his head and stared down at her, as if he'd never seen such a thing as a wolf daemon before, then a grin nearly split his face in two and his hands cupped Celeste's face.

"C'leste!" he exclaimed and to Dean's utter horror, leaned down to kiss her firmly on the head. An explosion of heat and insistent desire rocketed up Dean's spine, locking his knees and sending him tumbling back into his chair. His groin ached, his skin felt raw and he couldn't get a breath.

"Cas," he wheezed. "Stop it."

"Huh?" Looking over at him, head tilted, Castiel almost looked like his old self, like the politely puzzled angel he once was. "What?"

"Nothing," Dean breathed. "Just…just sit there for a minute and don't move," he gritted out. Castiel obeyed him, pulled his hands off Celeste and folded them in his lap while Dean tried to find any shred of control through the longing to drag Castiel out into the car and have his way with him.

"You have to stop doing that in public," he muttered a moment later as he felt himself calm.

"Nngh," Castiel said, blinking sleepily.

Dean sighed. "Come on," he said again. This time Celeste stood well away as Dean tugged Castiel up from the table, though once Dean got him standing, she pressed into his other side to help keep him upright. They began to make their way to the door, but had only made it a few steps before Dean realized Grace was still laying like a slug on the table.

"Hey, Grace," he called back. She snorted and looked around, baffled. "We're leaving, babe," Dean told her.

"Oh," she spluttered and then took off, wings spread wide.

And flew straight into the wall.

The thunking sound made Dean wince in sympathy and the split second of indecision over whether to leave Castiel in Celeste's hands meant he wasn't fast enough to catch her. She slid down the wall and flopped onto her back, her small round blue eyes wide and staring.

"Ouch," Castiel complained.

People were looking at them again. Dean felt himself flush, but what he had to do couldn't be helped. Celeste jumped up on her front paws, using the table to balance her against Castiel and Dean strode over to Grace.

His fingers closed around her soft warm body and he picked her up. Another wash of pleasure swept through him, similar to before, but less of an assault. More of an attack and Dean knew that Castiel's body was stuttering with desire now. Walking back to Castiel, Dean realized he would need both hands to keep his lover from falling over and glanced around helplessly.

"Crap." He looked down at his jacket, then back at Castiel. "Sorry about this," Dean said and then he shoved Grace into the front pocket of his jacket. Castiel moaned and lurched on his feet, his arms finding their way around Dean's waist, his lips on Dean's neck.

"Dean," he sighed. "Everywhere. Can feel you everywhere."

"Yeah, I know," Dean muttered and cursed the fact that Castiel would be in no shape to do anything about this once they got home.

"Come on. Let's get out of here," Dean said to Celeste and they walked out the door, Celeste pressing Castiel into Dean from the other side and Castiel's soul in Dean's pocket.

The Impala was parked close luckily, so it didn't take them long to reach it and dump Cas in the backseat. Dean kept Grace in his pocket out of fear that she'd tumble into the floor and he got into the driver's side. Just sat there and stroked Celeste's shoulder.

"So apparently, Cas can't hold his liquor," Dean said to her. She nodded.

"Apparently." A sidelong glance and then she grinned. "That was a fun date though."

Dean smiled back. "Yeah, it really was."


End file.
